


You're Not Cute

by Magic_fate



Category: Original Work
Genre: Body Worship, Cute, Established Relationship, F/M, Gen, In Love, POV Second Person, Passion, Possession, Possessive Behavior, implied sex, not being cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-24
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-06-10 12:56:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6957394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magic_fate/pseuds/Magic_fate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're not cute. No, Really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. - You're Not Cute -

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!  
> This will be a short and sweet work, 3 chapters. I plan to update daily.  
> Leave kudos, comments, proof of your existence, etc  
> Love you for reading!

                                                                          

“You’re not cute,” I said to you while your head was on my lap, and you responded with a feigned hurt expression.

Smirking, I tossed my curls back and repeated, “You’re not cute at all.”

Meeting your searching, intense gaze, I tell you, “I can’t call you cute, or adorable or precious, or anything I might call a child.”

Understanding reaches your eyes, and you smirk at _me_ now, already too confident in your appeal, too practiced in your charm.

Swiftly raising my knee results in the unintended effect of you rolling closer to me instead of away. Taking your long, taffy-like arms, you curl around me, pulling my upper body towards you with a deceptively sleek grip, slender fingers tangling in my hair, slippery fingertips already tugging at the strands, flicking my earlobes, and tracing towards my jawline.

                                                                                I hold my breath.

Trying not to lose my train of thought, I speak to you.

“I would call you ho-ahhhh “ – my breath catches as you trace at the corners of my mouth. Swallowing as you chuckle softly, I place my palms behind myself and rest my weight on them, steadying myself and attempting to put some distance between the two of us.

You do not move, but follow me with your eyes instead, studying me intently, like a wildcat watches its prey. Caught under your cruel, scrutinizing gaze, I feel my breath leaving me and not returning.

Or is that because of your lips on mine?

 

                                                               

 


	2. - Maybe a little -

How did you move so close to me that I did not notice? I did not see, I could not react, and I have lost all sense of time and cannot, for the life of me, tell you when you started and how long you have been kissing me. Probably as long as my eyes have been shut, although I still do not recall you ever coming closer. 

Perhaps accidental, and I think you do not know the extent to which you affect me.

And then I feel you smile into the kiss, as if reading my thoughts, and I know you are a sneaky bastard that cannot be trusted to serendipity.

Time is irrelevant now.

Minutes contract and seconds dilate as I shudder from your breath on my cheek. You place another reassuring kiss on my lips as you withdraw, and my irritation deepens as I remark that I do not recall my weight shifting onto yours.

I chance a glance at you as I open my eyes – not too quickly – never; only as if unveiling a heavy fog. A sly smile from you, and my palms are now open and in your hands.

I take consolation from a bright ray of sunlight that breaks sharply through my self-induced mind fog, shining right to your eyes.

I expect you to flinch or draw back.

                                                                                As expected, you do neither.

 

Your unwavering glance is at once serene and haunting. Your pupils dilate, and your dark, stormy eyes take on all hues.

All at once I feel lost at finding my reflection in an unrecognizable expression. Your eyes change daily, do you know that? The colors in your irises swirl, leaving me with no choice but to rediscover you each day.

You ghost a touch over my neck, bringing me back from my revelations, gasping. You experimentally brush your fingers – gently – accidentally upwards – as if beckoning me closer.

My eyes lid once again, I give in to your touch (and honestly, I am only kidding myself if I think there ever has been a time I have not) and raise my chin in expectation.

 

_Breathe in._

_Breathe out._

A glimmer of light on my irises before they lid for an immeasurable amount of time, covering an indiscernible distance, and I see your foreign yet familiar – yet always _mine_ – eyes waver for an infinitesimal amount of time, resulting in an effect of ripples reflecting off of an obscure surface, before you settle on an expression of contentment.

I release a breath that I didn’t know I have been holding.

_I haven’t been home in so long._

When was it that you last smiled at me?

I cannot count minutes, and I lose myself in moments, and it could not have been longer than two-and-a-half of them since I was tugged into your mirage-like veneer; gravitating towards the black hole underneath; three infinitely long ones (to be precise), since I had escaped, only   to   realize     that

I.

      Am.

                Slipping.

                                       Back...

Right now, I don’t even pretend to hide how my teeth are chattering, and my frame is trembling, and my eyes are tearing even as they close as I agonize in unbearable anticipation through moment three-and-three-quarters which lasts for longer that I can hold my breath.

                                                                                It is always the fourth moment.


	3. - Reprieve -

Finally opening my eyes to your possessive hold, I find myself lying beside you.

I freely take in the new day and am able to recall the date and the time. After the fifth moment, time flows naturally again. Your unnatural hold over time and reality is both unfair and inarguable.

However, I can’t bring myself to care right now; feeling all too eager to join you in rest.

For now, I am free, finally capable of looking away from your captive gaze and of taking in my new surroundings, which somehow do not ever seem to matter before moment five.

Softly, I exhale my relief.

Your deceptively sleek and soft hold suddenly tightens over my shoulders, startling me from my thoughts; demanding my attention back to your eyes.

                                                                               

                                                                                  Softly, shyly, slyly – you smile once again.


End file.
